


Infucktion

by Higgystar



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: M/M, Prompt Fill, but please don't read if it upsets you, more dub con than non con, sharyl
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-17
Updated: 2015-08-17
Packaged: 2018-04-15 03:25:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4591185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Higgystar/pseuds/Higgystar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The infection doesn't make those infected want to eat. It makes them want to fuck. At first it was funny, it was a joke, until thousands were turned. Now it's terrifying for Daryl, especially since they can smell out virgins.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Infucktion

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Again just in case anybody missed the warnings. This is a dub con fic, that means that one of the people is not fully consenting to the sexual acts described in this fic. It isn't fully non con because it's an infection, but please do not risk reading this fic if you do not like this or want to have any implications of something not being 100% consensual. Thank you.

People called it an infection, and it was in a way, only Daryl had never heard of one quite like it before. He’d heard of plenty of different diseases with a lot of different symptoms, but it seemed even the damned doctors on the news were stumped by this one. Red faced and sitting on a couch to be interviewed, censor warnings rolling at the bottom of the screen and various ‘experts’ trying to keep their language clean on daytime TV as they were forced to explain to the nation that the infected were trying to fuck everything that moved.

There were the jokes from the male presenters that they’d take one for the team and track down the female infected, but the comedy wore thin when you remembered that the infected didn’t care about their previous inclinations. Nothing seemed to matter to them at all. Sex, gender, colour, creed, they didn’t care about privacy, or which act they got to participate in or even if there was any consent, all they cared about was getting the chance to fuck.

At first Merle had almost pissed himself in laughter over it all, jeering at the TV and calling the infected nothing more than desperate assholes needing an excuse. The thing is, more people were getting infected by the day and slowly people stopped going to work, those who weren’t infected became afraid of their infected loved ones and everything seemed to just break down until those that weren’t infected were looking for answers and safety.

Maybe if there were only a few of them the world could have continued, but the infected moved as a herd and that made them dangerous. Roads got closed off as areas were swarmed by desperate fuckers, towns fell with no one sane left to keep it running and before long Daryl finds himself with Merle in the truck, heading out to nowhere and the hopes of laying low until it all blows over. His brother states it’s all a load of bullshit, and they were only going on a hunting trip to get away from it being all over the news. But Daryl knows it’s more than that. Merle’s worried and so is he.

The thing is the infected seemed to evolve once they were contaminated. After the virus got a hold of them there were differences in their appearance. They stopped caring about bathing, or about personal health, they seemed to become immune to pain and could fight through anything. They didn’t tire, their libido was magnified ten fold and the most telling part of it all was their eyes. Their eyes lost whatever their natural colour was before and turned a golden colour.

He hadn’t seen them up close, but the reports on television had shown him enough. He’d seen human beings act like wolves, swarm on an innocent and snarl at each other to get a hold of them. They’d pinned the person down, biting at each other, scratching and clawing to make their purchase with their eyes almost glowing in the dark as they took what they wanted. It had made him shiver to see it and even worse was when the reporter had announced that the infected relied on their sense of smell to hunt out prey.

And they could smell if someone was a virgin.

That was the reason they’d joined a group. The real reason they’d grit their teeth and decided to join with more people, was for protection, for him. Being surrounded by others might drown out his scent; it might mask his inexperience and leave him less vulnerable if they just stayed together. It’s tough, for both of them but Daryl can’t complain too much when he knew that Merle was doing this all for him. His brother hated it. He could see how hard it was for him and just how often he was going for his pills to get through the damned day. Still Daryl didn’t complain, he just bit his lip and got through it as best he could.

It’s the night that Merle has gone off on a run with some others from the group that it happens. Daryl has never been very social anyway, so he doesn’t see it as rude when he leaves the group meal around the fire to hide away in his tent. He doesn’t want to get to know anyone better, he doesn’t want to chat or share life stories, he just wants to survive. The worst of them all was that cop, the one that thought he was hiding the fact that he was banging that skinny bitch. Shane or somethin’. Guy always seemed to want to talk to him, to get to know him and find out the story behind his crossbow. Daryl didn’t want to share; so hiding away in his tent gave him a nice barrier between himself and everybody else.

He hated the camp, he hated the people and he hated the damned situation they’d been put into. It wasn’t fair and here he was in the middle of the night wishing that things would just go back to the way they were. The sound of a scuffle in the camp wakes him up, someone staggering nearer to the Dixon tent on the edge of the camp and making him roll his eyes at the sound of lopsided footsteps. Merle had gone and doped himself up again, probably off his face and going to be nothing but a pain in the ass for the next day.

Rolling onto his side Daryl huffs a little in annoyance, facing the wall of the tent and ignoring the sound of the zipper being opened with difficulty. Maybe if he just pretended to be asleep then Merle would leave him alone and pass out on his own side, leave him to sulk out his misery until the morning light.

When a hand paws at his side Daryl can’t help but grunt in annoyance, trying to roll away from the touch and ignore his brother. Of course the hand persists, touching him, smacking at his side and yanking on the blanket wrapped around his body until Daryl snaps. Sitting up he lashes out at the other person, only to freeze when it’s not Merle annoying him at all.

Shane is looking down at him with a small grin, panting heavily, breathing deeply and Daryl has no idea what the hell the other man is doing in his tent.

“The hell Walsh?” He mumbles, sleep fogging his vision and his voice as he shoves the other man away from him. Daryl’s never been one for close contact, but getting it from some guy he barely knows, having his personal space invaded like this was enough to make him want to snap. Safety of the group be damned.

“You smell good.”

It makes him pause for a moment, because this is the most surreal situation he’s been in. Then there are hands pawing at him, Shane is grabbing at the blanket around his waist and Daryl struggles to get back even more and out of his reach. “The fuck? Get the hell off of me man.” He hisses, not wanting to make his problem known to the rest of the sleeping group if possible. They needed the group; he’d have to solve this problem without causing a problem for he and Merle.

He’s ready to try and keep it calm, Daryl is more than willing to bat the other guy’s hands off of him and even pretend to laugh it all off as if it’s all a joke. He could deal with that, with Shane being a little too buddy buddy and thinking he’s comfortable with it, it was a mistake and mistakes happen. All he’d have to do is explain and this would all be forgotten in the morning right?

“God I wanna taste you.” Shane practically growls to him, and Daryl is very aware that this isn’t a joke.

Shane’s eyes are practically glowing, yellow in the dim light and it all falls into place in that moment. Shane is infected. This isn’t a joke, you can’t fake this sort of thing and Daryl is very aware of how alone he is without Merle here to help him.

“Back off Walsh, I’m warning you.” He threatens, scrambling for purchase, trying to find his crossbow in the darkness and reaching for the knife he keeps beneath his pillow at all times. Shane lashes out, and before Daryl knows it he’s being ploughed into by a man with a lot more body weight than himself. Shane was built like a football player, solid and strong and it’s not long before Daryl is struggling to get free from his tight grip.

The other man holds him firmly, still breathing heavily and grunting into his ear as he keeps him pinned. It’s painful and so uncomfortable, Daryl hates being touched and this was a good reason as to why. Squirming a little he tries to kick out, but Shane moves over him, throwing him to the ground and climbing on top of him quickly. “Wanna taste you.” Shane growls again, seemingly unfazed by his struggles and his want to get away.

He doesn’t want to yell for help because that would make noise, and noise meant more chance of bringing more of the infected down on them. But if Shane was infected then maybe others were. Daryl is breathing heavily, he can barely move because of Shane’s weight but he tries his best to get free. “Shane, Shane you’ve got to stop. Please…” He pleads, ignoring whatever the news had told him and hoping that there was still a part of the man left inside of him. Maybe the cop would hear him and stop before it all got too much.

All he can hear is the stuttered growl coming from Shane’s lips, it’s like a baseline of static in the air around him and he can barely breathe as Shane’s fingers dig into his wrists. It hurts, Daryl knows he’s going to be bruised after all this, he’s breathing heavily and squirming to try and get away, but Shane hangs on tight. “You’re gonna taste so damn good.” Shane tells him and when the man leans in and runs a tongue over his neck, Daryl can only let out a small squeak as the fear overwhelms him.

He’s never done anything with anybody before, heck he’s never gotten this close to anybody and now here he was pinned beneath another man and fucking shivering. It feels like too much and he wants to get away, but there’s nothing he can do. Shane has him down, pinned against the floor like prey about to have its throat torn out and to be honest, Daryl feels like prey.

The bigger man moves on top of him, growling constantly, his eyes glinting golden in the faded moonlight and it seems whatever slowness there had been to Shane’s movements before, were now over. Instead he moves with a purpose and Daryl is left to try and breathe as the bigger man’s teeth latch onto his throat and bite down hard. It hurts, but it’s like a good hurt, one that makes a burn go through him from the inside out. He can feel it tease at his nerves, tingling through him, making his breath hitch and a small gasp leave his throat.

He’s overwhelmed right now, full to the brim with fear and his nerves are shot. Shane is over him, one hand around his wrists, the other yanking and tearing off clothing, both his own and Daryl’s. Buttons fly in the darkness, fabric is ripped and Daryl can feel the heat curling off of Shane’s skin and hitting his own. Shane’s teeth bite at his neck, harsh and bruising, real and driving him crazy as he whimpers at the pain of it.

But it’s not just pain; it’s a mix of pleasure too. Daryl can barely think as the other man moves over him, skin touching skin, heat transferring between them and then there are fingers on him, a tongue on his skin and he can barely breathe. Shane is there, growling, grabbing at his body, grinding down against him and making the mix of emotions even harder to navigate. “Shane please…” Daryl manages to whimper, but honestly he’s not so sure what he’s begging for.

It doesn’t seem to matter to the other man either way, and all Daryl can see is the sheen of moonlight glimpsing off the almost glowing eyes of Shane. Ripped clothing falls to the floor, Daryl’s eyes roam over the man that has him pinned and despite everything; he can’t help but be impressed. Shane is strong, the kid of guy that that had worked out to be this well muscled, but none of it looked fake. Instead it looked like he’d earned every inch, through hard work and perseverance. Daryl thought he should be more disgusted than aroused by it all.

But then Shane’s mouth is moving down his body, his tongue is trailing down his flesh and leaving a mix of pleasure and terror in its path. Daryl is aware that he’s shaking, he can feel when Shane’s fingers release his wrists, but the need to escape has almost completely disappeared. Yes he’s nervous, yes he’s afraid, but the arousal is far too much, it’s overwhelming him and all his life he’s never been close to something like this. If he was going to be infected and lose who he was, then surely he should get to explore this one part of humanity he had yet to venture into. He feels like a teenager again, wanting everything but also frightened of it happening to him.

So instead of reacting, he simply doesn’t act at all. He leaves his fate in Shane’s hands and lets the man’s mouth trails down his chest, his stomach, then down further until he’s gasping. Daryl doesn’t stop him, doesn’t do anything more than moan and allow Shane to drag him down into lust. It feels like he should be fighting, but he doesn’t want to, not when this feels so good. Shane is owning him completely, keeping him down with want rather than complete terror.

Shane growls, his lips leaving kisses in its path as he makes his way down between Daryl’s legs. He doesn’t know why it’s so damned hot to be this afraid and yet so excited, but it is and he can’t help but arch up into the touch Shane is giving him. Moaning lightly, Daryl can’t help but watch as Shane works on his body, his tongue managing to find every inch of skin that makes Daryl shiver, makes him groan and want more. Then the tongue is on his cock and Daryl really didn’t think that it would feel so damned incredible.

It’s like he’s high, like Merle’s drugged him up on something again, like every part of his body is on fire and he can feel his nerves tingling over each touch. “Shane please!” He’s whining, hands moving down to fist at the other man’s hair, to shove him closer, or get more of him, he honestly doesn’t know. All Daryl is aware of is that he wants more.

So when Shane moves down further, grabs at his thighs and spreads them as far open as they can go, Daryl’s breath catches in his throat, only releasing in one loud huff of pleasure when Shane’s tongue swipes over his pucker. It makes him shiver, makes him groan and not care about anything else that happens after this. All that matters is that he feels so good, the sensation is incredible and he can feel his body wanting more. He moves with it, lets Shane do as he pleases and doesn’t protest when a spit slick finger begins sliding inside of him.

It’s a feeling he’s never felt before and he’d never thought he would be feeling at all, but right now he’s wondering just why he ever thought such a thing could be wrong. Because it feels right for some reason, and his body is tingling with pleasure, Shane’s fingers are inside of him and it feels like they’re meant to be there. The stretch is like a warm burn, not sudden, but a low and slow heat inside of him, something he finds himself getting used to and then accepting. When he thinks it’s of an ache than a burn another finger is added, making his body stretch to accommodate it and it still feels good.

There is a growl, a snarl and before he knows it Shane is kneeling above him, fingers spread in his hole, keeping him open and his cock hasn’t flagged the tiniest bit. Shane’s dick is dripping, slick with a wetness that Daryl wants to explore, thick and heavy between his legs and Daryl knows what he wants to happen. “F-fuck me.” He murmurs, his own cock leaking onto his belly, nowhere near as wet as the other man’s cock. He knew the infected changed in multiple ways, and there had been reports of a way that eased their methods of turning others.

Shane snarls as he shifts above him, knelt between his legs and teeth bared, looking feral and dangerous as he shifts. The fingers leave Daryl’s hole, move to grab at his hips and then there is a greater pressure, a blunt but slick pressure against his pucker and he’s never wanted anything more in his entire life. Moving his own hands, he reaches up and grips at Shane’s shoulders, giving himself some leverage, so when Shane presses forwards, he’s pushing back. And then he’s gasping as he’s filled.

It’s like nothing he’s ever experienced before. A warm, wet heat filling the inside of him, opening him up, making that burn turn more into a perfect ache that he never knew he wanted. It fills him, leaves him tilting his head back, gasping loudly and losing his breath for a moment as his eyes close. It’s not perfect, it’s not like he’d ever thought it would be, but it’s something that makes him clench his fingers around Shane’s shoulders and drag him even closer to him. Until their bare skin is touching, burning in friction against each other and Shane is moving inside of him.

A tongue laps at his neck, teeth scrape over his skin and Daryl knows he’s moaning, body already trembling in need for more. Shane is growling, the noise a constant low rumble in his throat, a soundtrack to the movements of their bodies. He doesn’t think, because this wasn’t about thinking right now, it was about fucking and him getting something he never knew he needed. It could take his life; it can go ahead and remove his future because right now it feels fucking worth it. So he pushes back, feels Shane bite a little harder at his neck and then there is a deep thrust and fuck Daryl knows he’s dying but he doesn’t care.

He can feel the length of Shane’s dick inside of him, giving a feeling of being full that he’s never experienced before. With each thrust more nerves are being awakened, Daryl can feel his body arching and bucking into it, matching Shane thrust for thrust. Their bodies beat together, there is a smack of skin on skin, the harshness of heavy breathing in a too small tent and God this is so intense. It makes him breathe. It makes him tremble. And fuck it makes him feel so alive even if this is the death of Daryl Dixon as the world knows it.

Arching his body against Shane’s chest before pulling back, it means he can look down between his spread legs, means he can see each and every pound of their bodies together. He can see Shane’s long dick pressing into him, giving him that pressure of being full that he’s enjoying so much. A part of him doesn’t think it can be real, this must be a dream, it must be nothing more than his perverted imagination playing with him because Daryl Dixon didn’t get to have anything that felt this good. But there is another thrust, another shove another hit against something and fuck his cock is jerking against his belly anyway.

There is a snarl above him, Shane’s eyes shine golden in the low light and then a hand is wrapped around his cock, grabbing it firmly and jerking at him until Daryl knows he must be able to be heard around camp. He’s moaning, shoving back for more, grabbing at Shane’s shoulders, mouth hanging open and body given to him completely. The other man fucks him harder and faster, thrusts erratic now, no rhythm, no thinking, it’s all about pleasure. It’s building up inside of him, his cock is leaking onto Shane’s fingers and he’s squeezing his eyes shut.

Shane doesn’t stop, he’s breathing hard but it’s like it means nothing to him. He’s snarling, biting at Daryl’s neck, groaning and sweating like any other human but there is a need, a deep a visceral need that needs to be sated. Daryl can feel it. He can see it, can feel and know that there was nothing else in the world at this moment. Shane is thriving off of this, and so was he.

It’s like he’s found what he has been looking for. Like everything else in his life, every moment meant nothing at all and it’s all been leading up to this. This will complete him. This will fix whatever is wrong, whatever the problems, this is the answer. It makes him shudder, there is something within him growing with each thrust and Daryl digs his nails into Shane’s shoulders as it becomes clearer and clearer to him. “More.” He grunts, voice rough, nerves aflame and something inside of him crawling, growing, desperate to get out. “More, I need more.” Daryl demands.

And Shane complies.

Teeth bite and suck at his neck, his skin is bruised, his body is responding in ways he never knew it could and it’s still going. He’s not tiring, Shane isn’t tiring, and he never wants this feeling to end. Not when he can moan, when he can grab at Shane’s hair, yank his head where he wants it and kiss him hard. The kiss is hard, it’s not about romance, it’s about just having this thing between them, whatever it is, carry on. Shane’s tongue owns his mouth, Daryl tries to copy but all he knows is that it feels too good to stop to breathe.

That spot inside of him is hit again. Shane’s fingers tighten around his cock and it’s a pressure inside of him building and building. He just needs a little more. Just one more thrust in the right spot, one more swipe of that thumb over the head of his cock, one more snarl into his mouth and one more moment of Shane. So he grinds back onto Shane’s dick, he thrusts his cock into that touch and finally, finally, finally it’s enough.

Daryl comes hard, cock spurting over Shane’s fingers, feeling each spurt of it leaving his body, coating him and then Shane is snarling, teeth are biting on his shoulder and he can feel Shane coming, he can feel him being filled, he can feel it, feel it all, feel so so much and it’s everything.

He’s never understood what bliss could be like before this moment.

Then he’s shaking, his body is coming undone and it’s with a blink and a sigh that he’s releasing the other man from his grip. Shane doesn’t hold onto him, it’s not about being close, it was about that moment and that moment has passed between them. Daryl feels alight, he feels awake for the first time in a long time and it’s a strange feeling. It’s like suddenly feeling alive. He can see better, breathe better, he is better. That one moment of perfection had caused this to happen, brought him out of that shit hole of a life and made him this. If something so quick and perfect had made him feel like this, imagine how much better another moment could make him feel.

He wants more. He needs more.

It makes a growl crawl up from his chest, slide through his throat and escape between his teeth until it’s a full-blown snarl of desire. He needs it again. It’s like a hunger has taken up residence in his stomach, one that won’t be sated by anything else. Not food. Not water. Not anything else in the world can be as good as that moment, that feeling, that instant of complete perfection that came from fucking Shane. It feels like he knows what he needs now. All his life means nothing anymore unless he can have that moment again. Now.

Shane snarls at him, he snarls back, but then they’re moving together, not to fuck again, but to leave the tent. Because there were others out here, Daryl can suddenly smell them, he can hear them and the taste on his tongue is of excitement for what that means. When he blinks his vision is clear, when he snarls it feels like it’s meant to happen, when he and Shane move across to their camp he can smell the scent of humans ripe for fucking. For giving him that moment again. He needs it, he wants it, and right now he’s going to take it.

The world is tinted golden as he and Shane stalk towards their prey.


End file.
